


Bloom

by Noenie



Series: Perfectly Imperfect [3]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: AU, Band Fic, Bars and Pubs, Bucky is a goofball, Crushes, Developing Relationship, Dorks, Engineer!Bucky, Ficlet, First Kiss, Fluff, Kissing, M/M, Meet-Cute, Mutual Pining, musician!Steve
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-15
Updated: 2020-08-15
Packaged: 2021-03-05 21:07:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,184
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25921825
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Noenie/pseuds/Noenie
Summary: Bucky has been head over heels for the hot blond singer on stage for months, so when he gets approached by said hot blond, he is not sure how to deal with himself.Enter awkward conversations and tooth-rotting fluff as a new relationship blooms.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
Series: Perfectly Imperfect [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1876522
Comments: 3
Kudos: 56





	Bloom

**Author's Note:**

> Heya,
> 
> I'm back with another one! *everyone claps excitedly* (I hope hehe).  
> I think I might write a sequel to this one, but we'll see how life goes.
> 
> Oh yeah, I'm not from New York, so I did my research on the internet (so helpful.... get it????). I'm sorry if anything is incorrect, but can't really help it.
> 
> Anyhoowww, I got the title for this fic from [Bloom by The Paper Kites](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8inJtTG_DuU).
> 
> Enjoy!

“Oh my God, Nat, he is so damn hot,” Bucky groaned, rubbing the palms of his hands over his eyes before looking at the stage again. 

“So talk to him.”

Bucky quizzically looked at his best friend, a frown on his face. “Obviously not, why would one even suggest something so irrevocably controversial?

“James, you’ve literally been pining after this blondie for more than three months,” she said, dead serious. “You keep dragging me out to this godforsaken bar just so your sorry ass doesn’t look even more desperate sitting here all by yourself just to watch him perform. Step up your game, he’s been ogling you just as much in return, you know.”

Bucky grumbled. Yes, so maybe he has been spending a considerable amount of time in the corner of a dark pub, slowly sipping away on a soda (he had work most mornings, and was _not_ one to tolerate alcohol well), and desperately dragging Nat along with him (he knew that if she really didn’t want to, she would’ve told him no), but so what? What if he just liked spending some quality time with his friend in a cosy atmosphere?

“You’ve never, ever wanted to go out with me, James. You literally want to sit inside and turn yourself into a human burrito all the fucking time.” _Okay, so he’d said that last bit out loud now?_

“Fuck off,” he said in lieu of giving an actual answer like an actual grown up human being.

Nat got up from her stool, a shit eating grin on her face. “Gladly,” she stated, pulling her jacket from the hook in a theatrical manner.

“Noooo, Nat,” Bucky whined, standing up to dramatically wrap his arms around the smaller woman, pouting into her shoulder. “Don’t goooo.” He pulled back to look at her, hoping his puppy eyes would seal the deal.

Nat’s face turned into an expression only people who _really_ knew her would recognise as sympathetic, the caring coldness in her eyes giving way for genuine compassion. “Talk to him, Bear,” she repeated. She didn’t stop putting on her jacket, a gleam shining in her eyes. “I actually have someone to meet, so are you okay here by yourself?”

Bucky was caught off guard by that. Nat hadn’t been interested in dating anyone in a long, long time. He shook his head to clear his thoughts a little and suspiciously eyed the redhead, eyes narrowing. “And who is it you’re meeting that’s more important than your awesome, intelligent and adorable best friend, miss Romanov?” he challenged.

She flipped him off, sashaying towards the exit, looking over her shoulder in the graceful way only she could. “You’ll meet him when you’ve talked to Steve.”

Bucky blinked a few too many times. Steve?

_Steve._

So that was the name of the hottest guy he’d ever seen in his entire life? He swallowed, gathering his thoughts. How did Natasha know, he wondered before answering himself. Of course Nat knew, she was omniscient like that.

He was just about to call after his friend when the blond guy – _Steve_ – walked up the stage after their quick break. Bucky’s eyes zoomed in on the built man with the golden hair, the deepest of blue eyes and a smile that was shining brighter than the sun. He was gorgeous. And Bucky? He was royally screwed.

“Good evening everybody! We are the Howling Commandoes and we’re gonna play some more songs for you!” Steve said in the mic, the crowd erupting in whoops and cheers. Steve’s eyes roamed over the room, briefly stopping to lock with Bucky’s. _Nuh uh, he was hallucinating, right?_

A cold sweat broke out at the back of his neck, a shiver running through his spine. Had Steve, the hot as fuck lead guitar and singer of the up and coming band Howling Commandoes just acknowledged his existence?

Bucky walked over to the bar, ordering some mozzarella rolls and a gin tonic; he needed something stronger than his trusted apple juice. Why did Nat decide that this was _the_ evening to leave Bucky all alone, pathetically chewing on the oily rolls and scrunching up his face every time he took a sip of the bitter drink?

Maybe she was right, most of the times she was (though Bucky would _never_ admit that out loud, he wouldn’t live it down), but somehow it hurt to try and discover the truth. What if her judgement was improper this time, and the whole situation turned into one big mess with feelings thrown around and discarded into the gutter? What if Bucky lost one of the few things he actually wanted to get out of bed for, even if it was something imaginary?

He had his work that was satisfactory, he had friends that would stay with him for life, he had some interesting hobbies, but he still felt he was lagging something, lagging _someone_. He hadn’t been in a relationship since Brock - he almost wanted to vomit thinking about the man – and he reckoned it was time for someone new he could share his days with. He needed someone to fall in love with.

But finding that someone, yearning after them and making a move had never been one of Bucky’s qualities. From a distance, he could adore, long, _want_ , but making a move could ruin everything he had, even when that was only a modicum.

He sighed, bringing the glass to his lips, only to realize it was empty.

Bucky was brutally ripped out of his self-loathing escapades by a familiar deep, velvety voice. “Need another drink?”

Bucky choked on thin air. He must have been too absorbed in his thoughts to notice that the Commandoes had already played through the _entire_ second half of their set. “H-hi,” he croaked.

Steve gestured at the stool opposite him. “Do you mind?”

Bucky sputtered a vague “no”, trying to compose himself as Steve sat down, setting two glasses on the table. “Been seeing you around a lot lately,” he stated simply, albeit a bit hesitantly. He slid one of the glasses over to Bucky’s side. Apple juice, he noticed.

The corners of Bucky’s mouth turned up into a tentative smile as he wrapped his sweaty hands around the cool glass. He looked up carefully. “Is that a bad thing?”

The blond man quickly shook his head. “No, not at all.” He looked into Bucky’s eyes with such a sincere expression that Bucky couldn’t do anything else than chuckle awkwardly. God, he really was a clusterfuck when it came to social interactions.

“I’m Steve, by the way,” Steve said, holding out a hand.

Bucky took Steve’s hand, both men holding onto it just a bit too long. “Bucky.”

“Nice to meet you, Bucky. So, you… uh- like our music?” Okay, so maybe wasn’t the only nervous one here. Bucky smiled at the thought, feeling a bit more confident with it in the back of his head.

“Yeah, you’re really talented. Love the way you seamlessly combine rock with pop, sounds real’ good.”

“Thanks,” Steve said, a faint blush appearing on his cheeks. “You into music?”

Bucky opened up his posture a bit more, relaxing his shoulders and leaning back against the lower backrest. He could do this. “I’m not musically talented, if that’s what you’re referring to. Wouldn’t have enough patience to learn how to play an instrument anyway.”

Steve leant forward, propping his chin in his hand, elbow on the table. “So what _do_ you enjoy doing in your everyday life?”

“Uhm, well, I like renovating things, buying old bikes and stuff and fixing them up so they can get out on the road again. I visit the gym now and then, and I like my job,” Bucky finished, feeling the last knots of tension dissolve.

“Cool! I ride a bike, though I’m not enough of a handy man to work on it myself,” Steve said excitedly. “What is it you do for work?”

“I work for Stark Industries as a technical engineer.”

“No way!” Steve exclaimed. “Wow, I feel so stupid now.”

“Hey, don’t say that about yourself,” Bucky objected. “I’m comfortable in developing new tech while you’re rocking it on the stage. The way I see it, you do what makes you happy, I do what makes me happy, and that’s the most important thing you need to find in a job. Everybody has their talents and only the values you assign to it make the one better than the other.”

“Wise words from a wise man.”

Bucky smiled at that, eyeing his half empty glass. “How’d you know I fancy apple juice?” he said to change topics.

“Well, I saw you coming in regularly lately, and -uh… not to sound like a creep, but I kind of, perhaps, might have been checking you out for a bit?” Steve looked at Bucky with a ‘is this okay?’ look in his eyes to which Bucky gave his silent approval with a small nod. “I thought you were with your girlfriend, Natasha?”

“Everybody calls her Nat.”

“Oh, okay, so I thought Nat was your best gal so to say, so I didn’t really want to make a move, thought it would be kinda rude. But anyways, she came to find me after our gig last week and practically disclosed that she was just your friend, although she did explicitly tell me that I should call her your absolute best friend and saviour, but yeah, so I was wondering, are you single?” Steve blurted, the last bit all in one breath. It made Bucky giggle.

“Yeah, I’m single, Steve.” Bucky felt a thrill wash through his body. Was this really happening? “Are _you_?”

And there was that beautiful smile again, challenging the brightest star in the milky way to a show down. “Hell yeah, I’m single.”

And so the night continued, Bucky sharing how he’d once gotten a black eye because of a fat fly (it was _not_ Bucky’s fault!) and Steve telling his story of him peeing his pants at ten years old in return. They shared their laughter but also crossed some more serious topics.

They had more in common than Bucky had initially thought. Steve Rogers had grown up in Brooklyn, just two blocks over from Bucky’s childhood home, and lost his dad when he was only three years old. Bucky had been five when he’d lost his sister. They both shared great interest in romcoms, though they couldn’t agree on whether Notting Hill or Love Actually was _the_ all-time classic. They settled on the compromise that both were great, and they should definitely watch them together some time.

They had been talking endlessly, only stopping to get a new drink or run to the bathroom, so when the bartender called for the last round before closing, they looked into each other’s eyes and started laughing.

“Oh my god, what time is it even?”

Steve looked at his phone, shock in his eyes. “Damn, it’s two in the morning.”

“Fuck me!”

“Not yet,” Steve said with a smirk on his handsome face, standing up as Bucky scrambled for his things.

“Taxies take forever at this time at night, and I need to wake up at six for work. Oh man, I’m gonna miss my beauty sleep,” the brunette pouted.

“I could give you a ride?”

“No, Steve, you really don’t have to,” Bucky started, but he was cut off by the blond man.

“What if I want to?”

“Oh, stop it with the puppy eyes!” Bucky scoffed, although he didn’t mean a word of what he was saying. Steve looked goddamn adorable. “Only if you really don’t mind, and only if you don’t need to drive to the other side of town just for me.”

“I really don’t mind. And I don’t know where you live, so I have no idea if I’ll need to do a detour. Wouldn’t mind it either way.”

“But I do, don’t want you to go out of your way for me.”

“Buck, I really don’t mind.” And okay, maybe Bucky was weak, but the nickname was all that was needed for Steve to win the argument.

“Well, okay, _Stevie_ , I’m East Village.”

Steve swallowed visibly. That’s a win for Bucky. “I live in Midtown, so you’re on my route anyway. If you have a second, I just need to grab another helmet from backstage.”

Bucky sputtered. “A h-helmet?”

Steve sent him a questioning, then apologetic look. “Oh shit, sorry, shit, probably should’ve told you! But uhm, rode my bike here while the boys took the van. Are you scared to hop on?”

“Little bit to be honest, but at long as there’s something to hold on to I must be fine.”

“Well, I’ll be sitting right in front of you,” Steve grinned before turning on his heels in search of the safety gear.

*****

Steve all but ran backstage, opening the door to the abandoned band room, putting two hands on the table in the middle to steady himself. _Oh my god this was really happeninggggggg._ He could literally jump around and scream with joy.

But he wouldn’t. It would be kind of weird to get back to Bucky heaving for air. 

He looked around the room, spotting the helmet on top of the record cabinet. He grabbed it and took one more calming breath before he turned and closed the door behind him.

He walked outside to where Bucky was waiting for him, swaying back and forth on his feet, hands in his pockets. When he saw Steve approach, his serious face broke, making way for a nervous grin.

“You ready?”

“Yeah.”

“Good. My bike’s parked just around the corner.”

They walked in a comfortable silence, Steve daring to steal some side glances, only to find Bucky’s eyes on him every single time. It made Steve’s inside feel warm and fuzzy, something he hadn’t experienced in forever.

Steve unlocked his bike, pulling it on the road. He reached for one of the helmets and gestured for Bucky to come closer. He carefully nudged the helmet over Bucky’s head, not being able to help himself but brush his finger along Bucky’s neck when he closed the clip. He felt Bucky shudder under his touch, but not flinch or pull away.

He swiftly secured his own helmet and stepped on his bike. When Bucky got on, a bit cramped and leaning back, Steve craned his neck to look at the brunette. “Seriously, Buck, you can touch me, it’s okay.”

Instead of an answer, he felt Bucky reticently wrap his arms around his torso, his head gently resting on his back. They were connected from waist to shoulder, and it made Steve feel… things. He’d never been one to need long to fall in love, but God, he was falling _hard_ for this man.

“All good?” he checked in.

When Bucky hummed softly, he took that as a yes and turned the key in the contact, letting his bike rev to life. He expertly manoeuvred through the thinned out traffic, Bucky giving direction once in a while.

It wasn’t long before they’d reached Bucky’s building, Steve’s mouth falling open at the grandness and the luxurious exterior. Of course Steve knew that East Village was not short of money, but _damn_. Stark must be paying well.

He moved his bike over to one of the parking spots in front of the building and softly touched Bucky’s arm to stir him into action, though he felt reluctant to do so. “We’re here, Buck.”

“Hmm, I’m comfortable.”

Steve snickered. “I know, but you gotta get into bed. Work, remember?”

“Shush, Steve,” Bucky said, climbing off Steve’s bike. Steve followed shortly after, getting rid of both their helmets, hanging them on the sides of his handle-bar.

“So…uh, I had a really good time tonight,” he started. “I thought, maybe we could do this again some time?”

Bucky grinned at him, his deep grey eyes reflecting in the light of the street lanterns. “I’d love to.”

“Good,” Steve mumbled, suddenly feeling unsure of what to do. He wanted to… he desperately wanted to kiss Bucky, but was that okay? They’d only officially met a few hours ago. Still, Steve felt like he’d known this man forever, they clicked so well.

He was so consumed by his internal conflict that he didn’t see the hand coming to rest on his cheek, thumb caressing the side of his face. He looked down into Bucky’s eyes, feeling more confident. He leant down, his own hand settling at the nape of Bucky’s neck. Their noses were touching, their lips mere millimetres away from each other when Steve stopped. “Is this- okay?”

He didn’t get a verbal answer to that. Instead, Bucky closed the remaining distance, softly pressing his lips to Steve’s. Steve pressed back, and for a minute or so, they just stood there, body’s touching in the gentlest of ways, feeling like the rest of the world was non-existent.

It was Steve who took initiative next, lightly coaxing open Bucky’s mouth with his tongue, taking his time to explore the other man’s lips, teeth, mouth. They found each other, swirling around one another in an elegant routine.

It wasn’t long before Bucky’s hands were in Steve’s hair, tugging at the longer strands on top. Steve moaned into the other man’s mouth, taking Bucky’s bottom lip in between his teeth and tugging. It earned him a moan of his own, which only encouraged him to try even harder.

Steve had no sense of time left. Maybe minutes, perhaps hours had passed before he pulled back, needing some air in his longs. He looked down at Bucky’s mouth and felt all his blood flow south at the view he was granted. Bucky’s lips were wet, red and swollen, all by Steve’s doing.

Steve had to forcefully contain himself from pushing the other man against a wall and truly kiss him senseless. He moved his hand to Bucky’s cheek, tracing his finger along Bucky’s defined jaw, over his mouth, over Bucky’s closed eyes.

“You should go to bed,” he whispered.

“Yeah,” Bucky agreed, but laid his head on Steve’s chest.

Steve stroked his fingers through Bucky’s brown locks, closing his eyes and letting the moment sink in. “Go to bed, Buck, we’ll speak soon.”

Bucky looked up with a tired expression, his eyebrows pulled together in a frown. “Steve, phone numbers?”

“Ask, Nat,” the blond answered simply. At the confused Bucky gave him, he elaborated with a smirk on his face. “I gave it to her in the case you might be interested.”

Bucky’s eyebrows shot up to his hairline, the last bit of energy well spent. “Bit optimistic don’t you think?” Bucky challenged.

“I’d rather say realistic judging by the way the last fifteen minutes were spent.”

“You’re a punk.”

“Jerk.”

Bucky disentangled his limbs from the blond, walking backwards towards the front door of his building. “See ya, Stevie.”

“See ya, Buck. “

Steve didn’t start his bike until Bucky had completely gone out of sight.

Okay, so he definitely owned Nat that beer.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and kudos bring me joy!
> 
> Side story: so the black eye because of a fat as fuck fly was definitely me in real life. How, you ask?  
> Well, I was peacefully sitting on the edge of my sister's bed with my laptop in my lap, and she was running and jumping through the room trying to get rid of this fly. And we thought she smacked it, and then I felt something on my foot (and obviously thought it was the fat fly) and so I somehow spasmed and smashed my laptop into my face. Fun times!  
> I thought this little story explains my chaotic personality well :)).
> 
> Byeeee


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